


The Last Five Years

by what_is_a_social_life



Series: You and I [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Last Five Years (2014)
Genre: Bobbi has some PTSD-esque issues, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Divorce, Inspired by The Last Five Years, Lance and Bobbi are Doctor Who nerds, Multi, POV Multiple, Pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_is_a_social_life/pseuds/what_is_a_social_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the musical of the same name, Bobbi and Lance recount their failed marriage, where he goes forwards and she goes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Wonderful Died

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Nope, I don't own TL5Y or the MCU.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**BOBBI**

“Lance?” Bobbi called as she dropped her keys into the dish by the front door, “I’m back.”

The small apartment was incredibly quiet, which was strange. Normally, Lance had a soccer match blaring from either the main room or their bedroom, and she would have to yell at him to turn it down.

She turned towards the desk and noticed a note there, which she assumed was quickly scrawled in that chicken scratch that he called handwriting to tell her that he ran to the store or something.

As she glanced over the letter, she froze. She picked up the paper and read it time after time until all the words ran together in her head and she needed to sit down.

So she sat on the desk chair, numb. The thin golden band and his keys glared up at her, as did the paper's heading: Lance and Bobbi Hunter. She'd argued with him about taking his name, but they had reached a compromise: Hunter legally, but still Morse at S.H.I.E.L.D. in an attempt to avoid confusion.

Another compromise. She laughed bitterly. Maybe now she’d change it back.

She glanced around their apartment, which was now lacking the very essence of Lance. She quickly discovered that all of his clothes were gone from the closet and dresser, his things cleared out of his desk. All that he’d left behind was his ring, keys, and the damned photos.

Mostly photos of their wedding.

Natasha and Izzy had both helped her pick out her dress, an a-line cream dress that _no, Bobbi, is not allowed to have stave holders_ , according to Natasha. It was a simple ceremony, family and some of his friends from the armed forces and some of hers from S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Fury had even stopped by the reception and had scared Lance shitless. They both looked so happy, so _in love_ in all them.

She would have to get rid of those damned things.

She reached for her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Izzy’s name came up first and she fought the urge to delete the contact. Izzy was more of Lance’s friend than hers, she knew that.

So why did she feel so betrayed?

She kept scrolling until she found Mack’s. She almost didn’t press the “call” button. As a technician, he was often called out to assist on assignments, meaning he was almost never at the Hub. And if he was, it wasn’t likely that he would answer. And it wasn’t like she was depressed or anything.

She pressed the button.

“Agent Mackenzie.”

“Hey, Mack, it’s Barbara,” she murmured. Mack was the only person outside of her blood family ever allowed to call her that when it was outside of teasing or… other circumstances. Sometimes, it was just easier to answer the phone that way when she knew it was him.

“I do have caller ID, you know,” his deep voice chuckled on the other end. “What’s up? I better not have to come reinstall the comms on your quinjet again.”

“No, no, I’m just at the apartment in London,” she replied, “You are stationed at the Hub, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“He left, Mack.”

“You didn’t tell me he was getting deployed. Did you? Where to?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. He _left_. He left his ring and his key and all of his stuff is gone.” There was silence on the other end, which gave her the chance to dry the tears on her cheeks. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D. specialist, for God’s sake, why was she losing control over her emotions like this?

Arguing with someone was one thing; her walls had to be down to be arguing with someone, and when she yelled she usually lost control of her tear ducts. But crying over someone was another thing altogether.

“I will kick his ass.”

“No, Alphonso, you will not. You’re a big brother, but not my big brother, remember?”

“Right. I’ll be there in like two hours, okay? Maybe I’ll stop and pick up some ice cream on my way up.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Mack.”

“Don’t mention it. Hang in there, Barbara.”

“Please, Mack. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” he echoed, but his had a very different tone than hers had. She was just hoping he wouldn’t track down Hunter behind her back.

The other line went dead and Bobbi sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair. Lance was gone. He was really, honest-to-God _gone_.

He didn’t say it outright, but she could tell that he was blaming her. He basically said it was all her fault.

“What about you, Hunter?” she said bitterly, “What about you?”

She walked into their room-- well, she supposed it was _her_ room now-- and slowly slid the two rings off of her finger, watching memories of the last five years slowly fall away.

“Maybe, if you came back, I’d be able to see how you knew that we had no chance at all.”


	2. I Could Be In Love With Someone Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning.

**LANCE**

Lance checked over his appearance one last time in the mirror. After a frantic call to one of his friends from boot camp about what to wear on a first date, he’d settled for black slacks and an olive green button down that his mother had gotten him for Christmas that he hadn’t planned on wearing any time soon, but there he was. The only shoes he seemed to own any more were combat boots, so he prayed to every God he could think of that she wouldn’t laugh at him.

His hair, well, he never quite knew what to do with his hair, but all the women at university had liked it best when he didn’t do a thing to it. Plus, he looked _awful_ with his hair slicked back. That wasn’t first date material. He didn’t even think it was _date_ material.

He’d first met her stateside, in the Outer Banks. She’d been in town to meet her first unofficial nephew, but worked in Southampton, back in England. She'd been shocked to learn that he had just finished boot camp for the Special Air Service.

Well, he was pretty sure that she had pretended to have been shocked. One week later, she, in all her S.H.I.E.L.D.-catsuit glory, came after him, requiring SAS information. Sadly, well, not _sadly_ , but more like embarrassingly, that was when they had actually hit it off. He still gave her the intel, and only got a two week suspension.

(In his opinion, it was worth it, since he’d also given her his number.)

They hadn’t actually discussed what they would do, but since she was from America and had confessed she was relatively new to the area, he figured he’d show her around Southampton. Grab some food at a pub, and give her the proper English experience.

She had recently moved into a small building near the water, on the main floor. He made his way to her flat slowly and knocked on the door at exactly at the time he had said he would pick her up, because Marion Hunter had raised a gentleman, and she would be damned if her son was one minute late or even one minute early to pick up a date.

A brunette with glasses and pink highlights opened the door. Her face was scarily intimidating. He was afraid he had the wrong flat, but was saved from asking her the embarrassing question when she said, "Are you Bobbi's date?"

"Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Victoria Hand. One of her colleagues. Call me 'Vic' and I will punch you."

"She's not kidding," another brunette said, coming into the doorway. He figured as much, if this Victoria girl was a S.H.I.E.L.D. colleague, but it was always nice to be 100% positive about what you were getting into. He also wasn’t positive if these two knew that he knew Bobbi was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

"Good to know," he said, pausing before he added, "Tori." The brunette with the highlights glared at him, though he was convinced that her eyes told a different story as the other offered him her hand.

"Isabelle Hartley, but you are allowed to shorten my name; in fact, most people do."

"Lance Hunter," he said nervously.

"Bobbi's just finishing up; she'll be out in a moment," Victoria added.

"Thank you."

"Come on in," Isabelle said, opening the door up wide. He came in slowly, looking around the place. His cousin said that you could learn a lot about a person by their homes, but then again, she was an interior designer, so she was pretty biased. There were two cardboard boxes, marked 'Fragile' and 'Misc,' two open suitcases that had clothes and shoes littered in them, a closed duffle bag sat by the door, with what looked like the same eagle emblem on it that had been on Bobbi’s catsuit, a different S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia than the one provided in files. Isabelle seemed to follow his eyes and stepped in front of the bag. This only confirmed that she had no idea he knew she was S.H.I.E.L.D. "Bobbi said you're a private in the SAS."

"Yes, I am."

"We should talk sometime," Isabelle said, and Victoria elbowed her. So Victoria didn’t know, either.

"You talking trash about me again?" Bobbi's voice called. She came out of what he assumed was either the bathroom or her bedroom, and she was wearing a simple navy blue dress and...

Black combat boots. He smiled.

"Nice shoes."

She glanced down at hers almost self-consciously, but then she looked at his and an identical grin appeared on her face.

"You, too."

The two made their way outside in a comfortable silence. The wind rolling off the ocean made the night a degree or so colder than it had been back in London, but the weather didn’t seem to faze her.

“You didn’t tell them I knew, did you?”

“We’re not supposed to tell dates what we do for a living unless it gets serious. Otherwise, half of America would know that one of my friends works for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Why Southampton, of all places?” he asked, earning a small laugh from her, “I mean, S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters are in New York, right, so why not put something in London?”

“No combat missions actually depart from Headquarters, and the Triskelion, a base that’s also near a large metropolitan area, is outside of it, so it’s not actually in the city, either. You might go to one of them to debrief, but combat wouldn’t leave there. If you do, you leave your quinjet upstate and travel into the city in an SUV. It’s too metropolitan for quinjets and planes to be flying in and out of 24/7 for an organization that’s trying its best to keep itself on the DL. Same goes for London.”

“So you’re telling me that there’s a S.H.I.E.L.D. base in Southampton? What, is your flat in a building with only agents living in it?” Bobbi was silent and Lance burst out laughing. “You live with a bunch of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.”

“Technically, yes, I do,” Bobbi laughed, “But we’re all over the world at different times. And most of us actually live on base. That’s why I have so little stuff. So the apartments are if we just need a break.”

“Or a date,” he teased, making her laugh.

“Or a date,” she agreed. “So, Private Hunter, what’s on the agenda?”

“Well, Agent Morse,” he teased back, “I was thinking…” 

* * *

 “Hunter, Hunter, _Hunter_!” Bobbi shrieked, “Let me unlock the door!”

Lance begrudgingly removed his lips from her neck and hands from her waist, allowing her to dig around in her purse for her keys to her small apartment.

They'd taken a walk by the water, discovering that they shared a mutual love of the classic _Doctor Who_ and talked about their favorite Doctors and companions and trading theories about the updated version that would start on BBC soon. She had readily agreed to the pub and had ordered fish and chips, stating that it was vital to her immersion in British culture. He'd kissed her afterwards and it was electric.

She’d casually mentioned that he probably shouldn’t drive back to London this late or in his partially inebriated state, and that he should spend the night at her place. He had jokingly asked if she would be there, too, and she’d quietly whispered, “If you want me to be.”

His brain might’ve been a little slow due to alcohol, but he was pretty sure that had caused the make out session in the alleyway.

The door swung open and he pulled her back to him, and she returned her mouth to his. The door swung shut just as quickly as they’d opened it and they all but collapsed onto the bed.

“My mum’s heart just broke,” he laughed into her ear.

“What?”

“My mother, back in Leeds, her heart just broke.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I always promised her that she would meet the girl before I defiled her.” Bobbi laughed, leaning over and kissing his neck. “Okay, I didn’t. I think it’s been strongly implied, though.”

“I know. My parents are the same way, but I’ve broken that rule already.”

“I have, too.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. He’d never felt this way about someone. Never once before had he ever considered sex on the first date, but here he was, with one of the most beautiful girls, inside and out, he’d ever met in his life.

He can’t believe they’re about to do this.

“I’ve been waiting for someone like you,” he whispered into her ear before leaving a trail of kisses down her neck and being beyond pleased when he got a response out of her.


	3. We're Doing Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just before Bobbi and Lance's divorce, they get into a fight that could decide the fate of their marriage.

**BOBBI**

Bobbi stood on the isolated part of the tarmac of Aeroport de Barcelona-El Prat, waiting for the S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet to land. She had no idea how Lance would react to seeing her, considering he’d sounded somewhat angry on the phone the night before, but she never knew anymore.

The second he got off the quinjet he started running to her, which made her give an internal sigh of relief before catapulting herself into his awaiting arms. They’d done this dance several times after missions on both sides, but never before had she been hugging him and breathing in his scent and yet still feel as if she was still in the middle of the Australian outback and he was still in London.

“I missed you,” she murmured, and though all the emotion was there, it didn’t sound like her voice.

“I missed you, too. You look tanner. Somewhere south?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just a spray tan that S.H.I.E.L.D. did to throw you off.” The second she said the words she realized they were probably a poor choice and they pulled back awkwardly. “So, what do you want to do?”

“Eat.”

“Of course,” Bobbi said, planting a kiss to his cheek and lacing their hands together. They both looked down at their hands, and she wondered if he, too, got the overwhelming sensation that something was _wrong_ with them. What, she wasn’t quite sure, but there was definitely something that hung between them, something that was completely unsaid, and, on her end, anyways, completely unknown.

* * *

 They managed to find a small café not too far from the airport that they were now sitting at, simply taking in their surroundings and sipping their beverages. Bobbi had always wanted to visit Spain, but even in all her years with S.H.I.E.L.D. she’d never been there, and she had no idea if Fury had arranged for them to meet here on purpose or not, but she appreciated the birthday gift all the same.

“It looks like I’ll be home sooner than expected,” she said casually, though she kept her eyes firmly locked on one of the buildings surrounding them. She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye.

“That’s good. And you seem to be doing okay mentally.”

“Yeah, this one hasn’t gone south. Yet, anyways; they always seem to, nowadays.”

Lance’s silence was not exactly reassuring.

“We should probably head over to the hotel.”

“About that,” he sighed, and she felt her stomach plummet. So _this_ was the thing that stood between them. “I found out on the flight over; there’s some stupid banquet tomorrow.”

“Of course there is,” she laughed bitterly, “So I guess you’ll be leaving tomorrow night.” He didn’t say anything and the pieces clicked in her head. “Except the quinjet didn’t fly off like it normally does, so you’re leaving tonight.”

“Bobbi-”

“It’s my birthday, I’ve been gone for almost two and a half months, and you’re _still_ choosing it over me. Just because you’re successful, Hunter, doesn’t mean you have to rub it in my face.”

“Oh, so it’s ‘Hunter’ again?”

“You’re damn right it is!”

“And I don’t rub it in your face!”

“You do. You do all the fucking time. Always mentioning it and bragging about it but when something good happens to me in my career you give a half-hearted congratulations!”

“Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to say! Are you even working in Barcelona, Bobbi? Are you even in Europe?!”

“I’m not supposed to tell you!”

“Then stop dragging me out here to see you!”

“You and I _always_ try to see each other when one of us is away. You know why, Lance? Because we’re _married_ , and we _love each other_ , and we _put each other first_.” She stood up, placing her coffee cup down with a clatter, and throwing her ring in his face. “I’ll see you in two weeks. If you’re still there, that is.”

She only prayed he didn’t see the tears trying to break their way out as she stormed away angrily, her fury fueled by the fact that he didn’t follow her.


	4. Flying Full Speed Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Lance's timeline, he gets a promotion. In Bobbi's, things aren't working out too well at S.H.I.E.L.D.

**LANCE**

His phone started ringing, jolting him from sleep. Swearing, he reached over to get it in a vain attempt to answer it before Bobbi woke up. Being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent meant light sleep; he’d gathered that much, but she had just gotten back from a three week long mission and needed to rest.

"Lance?" Bobbi mumbled. "What-"

"Just my phone; go back to sleep." She nodded in an almost dazed sort of way, telling him that, despite her training, she was really only half awake. “Yes?”

“Private Lance Hunter?” a deep voice asked on the other side of the line, “This is Field Marshall Lewis Thompson of the Special Air Service.”

“Yes, yes, I know who you are,” Lance said, fumbling around on the bed, causing Bobbi to stir again.

“Your stellar work on your last operation has led us to elect you to the Lance Corporal title of the Special Air Service.”

“I don’t- holy shit- I’m sorry, I didn’t- Thank you, sir, thank you very much.”

“Report to the London base this afternoon.”

“Yes, yes, of course, sir. I will be there by three o’clock, sir.” The other line went dead and Lance brought the phone down from his ear. “Holy shit.”

“Lance, what happened? Lance? Hunter, for God’s sake, tell me you didn’t go into shock!”

“I’ve just been moved up.”

“What, like a rank?”

“Yeah. It’s, um, it’s like when you guys move up a clearance level, for good work on a mission? You, my darling Bob, are now speaking to Lance Corporal Lance Hunter.”

“Did you mean to say ‘lance corporal,’ or are you just in so much shock that you said Lance twice?”

“Yes, _Barbara_ , I did mean to say ‘lance corporal,’ as that is what my new rank is in the SAS.”

“No fucking way!” Bobbi cried, throwing her arms around him. He was still almost too shocked to process what was happening, but was able to wrap his arms back around her.

“Let’s move in together,” he replied to her. “Like you asked, back in the States, before your mission.”

“I had Izzy look deeper into it; there’s so much paperwork involved with actually _moving_ off S.H.I.E.L.D. property. It’s only because Victoria and Izzy are angels that we even get as many nights away as we do.”

“Hey, hey,” Lance chastised, “I will fill in all that bloody paperwork for you if it means we can live together. Just, find a flat; I don’t care if it’s London or Southampton, or anywhere in between, just as long as I’m with you.”

“That was so corny.”

“Yeah, love, I caught onto that,” he laughed. “Don’t you have a debriefing you need to be at nine?”

“Ye- _shit_!” Bobbi all but screeched as she jumped out of the bed and towards the shower. He laughed at her retreating figure, clad in nothing but a white tank top and Star Wars pajama shorts.

They weren’t moving too fast, were they?

* * *

  **BOBBI**

Bobbi all but busted down the door to Director Fury’s office with the amount of force she used to open it. Luckily for her, Fury seemed to be the only one in there.

“Sir, I would like to talk about your decision to chose Agent Palamas to accompany Agent Romanoff undercover at Stark Industries.”

“Agent Morse, you would do well to remember that you do not have a say in who goes on missions above your clearance level.”

“That’s exactly it, sir. I understand why Agent Romanoff was picked, being as her clearance level provides her with all the important information for the mission, and on top of that she is exactly the type of woman that Stark has been shown to be unable to resist.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming, Agent Morse.”

“Agent Palamas only recently tested in from the Academy. She has a clearance level of one so, if she manages to get to Stark before Agent Romanoff, she would not know what to do.”

“Which is why Agent Romanoff is in place as well.”

“I understand, sir. I would just like to know why I was not chosen for this mission.”

“Because I chose Agent Palamas.”

“I have a higher clearance level than Agent Palamas and am tested in deep cover missions; it’s one of the reasons why I have the codename that I do, sir. I single-handedly scouted out the Red Room last year under a deep cover that resulted in a successful takedown of the organization. Agent Palamas barely passed the Academy’s undercover training.”

“Which is exactly why I am sending her and Agent Romanoff, Agent Morse. The door is right behind you.”

Bobbi stood there for a few minutes more, staring at Director Fury as if waiting for him to say something else. Finally, though, she accepted defeat and turned on her heel and exited the room, most definitely not crying as she did.

* * *

  **LANCE**

“To Lance Corporal Lance!” Bobbi called, even though this was not their first round. Mack, Izzy, Victoria, Bobbi, and himself all clinked their glasses together as Bobbi kissed his cheek.

“While I would absolutely love to stay, I have a recon mission that starts tomorrow,” Izzy sighed after she had shot back some whiskey.

“What’re you doing?” Lance asked, not expecting an answer. Sometimes-- well, really most of the time--, Bobbi’s friends were pretty secretive about what they were doing, especially with Bobbi having a lower clearance level than most of them.

“Infiltrating some mercs to get to their boss,” she replied, “And that’s the best you’ll get, Mr. Curiosity.” The whole table laughed. Lance was notorious for trying to learn information about what exactly it meant to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Izzy stood up, slapping some money down for her drinks before turning to her girlfriend. “You coming, Vic? We can have some please-don’t-die-sex?”

“How could I pass that up?” Victoria laughed, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s lips.

“I gotta go, too,” Bobbi sighed, “I have to be at Headquarters at like five AM tomorrow.” She grabbed Lance’s face so that they were kissing on the lips this time. He heard Izzy and Victoria’s chuckles and tried his best to ignore them.

“Don’t die out there, alright?” he whispered to her. She couldn’t tell him what was going to happen out there. But he needed some reassurance that, no matter what, she would do her absolute best to come back.

“I won’t,” she replied, stealing one last kiss. “Bye!”

After the girls had left, it was just him and Mack. He didn’t dislike Mack. He was cool. He, along with Clint, viewed Bobbi as their little sister. He didn’t have any sisters himself, but he knew how close Izzy and her sister were and had figured out to value the relationship between siblings, whether it was blood or not. Plus, Jane Hartley, Izzy’s sister, was cool. She had a great fake British accent.

“So Barbara says that you two found an apartment in London.” Lance didn’t understand why Mack was the only one who could get away with calling Bobbi by her full name on a regular basis, but he didn’t question it, either. It was simply the way things were between those two, and Lance accepted it.

“Yes, we did,” Lance replied, laughing slightly to himself. “I didn’t expect to have any of this at 23. Hell, I went to university and almost got a degree in economics, for Christ’s sake! Hated it; actually flunked out of that place. The military had always appealed to me, and now here I am, Lance Corporal Hunter of the Special Air Service!

“And now I’m just like, what else is there? I’m not even twenty-five and I’m already in a serious relationship, and I've been on one op and I've already been promoted. How do I know that I'm not spinning out of control?" Mack chuckled at Lance's words, which was not reassuring. "I'm serious, mate. You've known Bobbi longer than me; even if it’s only by about a year, so please tell me that you have some great insight into her psyche."

"Nope, Bobbi's yours to figure out, not mine. You’ll do just fine.”

_Then how come I’ve got an impression that things are moving too fast?_


	5. I Said I'd Stick It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi wonders if her marriage of equals is really a marriage of equals.

**BOBBI**

"How did you and Lance meet? I mean, you're obviously not British."

Bobbi sat at one of the _many_ parties for the SAS after Operation Panther’s Claw. They’d done a great job. Lance had gotten bumped up a rank. (Again.) She was currently surrounded by what she was pretty sure was mostly soldier wives, and she was convinced that all of them were silently judging her for her American accent. Questions like she’d just been asked were all too common from the housewives, and it was times like these that she wished she could say she was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and have mentally stimulating conversations with the female SAS members. Or any SAS members, for that matter. She just needed to get away from all these women before all the Chanel No. 5 destroyed her brain cells.

"We actually met stateside, in the Outer Banks. I travel all over the world for my job, but they've stationed me in England."

Bobbi cast a glance towards Lance, who was chatting it up with some of his friends. She didn't want to deprive him of this, after everything that had happened on the op.

"How long have you guys been married?" another girl asked.

"Um, we got married in April of last year so… almost a year and a half,” Bobbi replied.

“What’s it like? Being married to him?”

“Well, it’s just like being married to your husbands, I’m sure. I worry about him when he’s gone and when he’s home.”

"Our husbands aren’t climbing the ranks like yours is.”

“Well, they’ll be climbing the ranks someday. Lance just… has to be the best.”

* * *

 “So how is good old Hunter? Heard he's a first class warrant officer now," Natasha said after she, Clint, and Bobbi had found a table near the back of the pub. STRIKE Team Delta had just debriefed at the Hub and had wanted to catch up with Bobbi before their next mission. Natasha had been her SO, and she and Clint she had become friends before he had knocked up Laura, something that everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. never stopped teasing him about. Of course, to everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D, arms dealer Samantha Fisher was doing God-knows-what now, when in reality she went by Laura Barton and lived with her and Clint's two kids on a farm that had once been one of her husband's personal safe houses.

Bobbi and Clint were also married. Technically. Well, their favorite aliases were. It was a long story.

"He's good. We're good. I think we are, anyways."

"What happened?" Clint growled.

_Everything._

"Nothing happened, Clint. Just, sometimes I- I feel like I follow him and kind of do what he says? But I know that’s not true, because I'm a part of this marriage just as much as he is."

_Aren't I?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the thing about Laura is a fanfiction of mine still in the early writing stages, but keep a look out for it if you're intrigued by it.


	6. The Beautiful Girl Who Inspires Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi's just back from a rough mission, and Lance does everything he can to make this Christmas the best Christmas she's had in a while.

**LANCE**

All S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who wanted the day off on Christmas Eve and/or Christmas Day were allowed to take it, and it was guaranteed that they would all be with their loved ones by 6 AM on Christmas morning-- or 6 PM on Christmas Eve, if they wanted then, too--, no matter where they were going or coming from. Lance knew that Bobbi had requested off for Christmas Day and they were scheduled to have dinner with his family and an afternoon get-together with Victoria and the Hartleys, meaning he  _ really _ only got her for a few hours.

Lance had spent the entire day setting up Christmas lights around the apartment and had her gift ready. He wasn’t expecting her until much later, so he was shocked when he heard a key in the lock.

“Bobs?” he called in shock, straightening. The door opened to reveal Bobbi, a haunted look in her eyes, who was clinging to Mack for dear life. “Is she alright?”

“It was a bad one. She got shot in the shoulder and there were civilian casualties,” Mack replied. Lance raced over and took Bobbi into his arms.

He knew Bobbi. She didn’t cry easily, but she didn’t seem to be crying now. He could just tell that she needed someone to support her. And probably feed her ice cream and hot chocolate.

Shit. Did they have any more mini marshmallows?

“Merry Christmas, you two,” Mack called as he made his way back towards the door, setting Bobbi’s key ring down on the table as he did so.

“Same to you, Mack,” Lance called quietly, sitting the two of them down on the couch and covering Bobbi up with a blanket. “I’m gonna make you some hot chocolate and I think we have some peppermint ice cream.” Bobbi nodded, though her eyes were still haunted and she didn’t seem to be all there.

Lance made his way to the kitchen, fixing up their food and drink. Bobbi would talk when she was ready, so he waited patiently, not saying a word, something that Bobbi (And usually Izzy, too) loved to say was almost impossible for him.

It wasn’t until she’d had a few bites of ice cream that she finally spoke.

“It was bad, Lance.”

“I know.” She went silent again, staring out the window with her hands wrapped around her mug in a death-like grip. He noticed blood caked onto her fingernails and wondered what exactly had happened on that mission, what she’d seen, what she’d had to do.

He also marveled at the fact that she hadn’t admitted to the fact that she had PTSD yet.

“I’ve been working at S.H.I.E.L.D. for three years now, plus three years at the Academy. I’m a Level 3. I became a Level 2 in eleven months.”

“What’re you saying?”

“What am I doing wrong?” she asked quietly.

“Love, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he promised, “Not at all. Bad things are just happening on your missions, and they want you to have plenty of time to recuperate. That’s the only reason you’re not going on as many missions are you’d like to; I’m sure of it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. Why wouldn’t they want the world to see this beautiful girl right here, the one who inspires me?”

“I inspire you?”

“Of course you do. Why do you think I work so hard on my missions? Because I have your beautiful face to return to,” he laughed, cupping her face in his hands. The hints of a smile appeared on her face and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment before looking her in the eye again. “You just need to take a deep breath.” He pulled out her present, which he handed to her. “And take your time.” She gave him an odd little look and then slowly opened the small box, revealing the TARDIS necklace he had bought for her. She laughed upon seeing it. “Have I mentioned today,” he whispered into her ear, “How lucky I am to be in love with you?”

He pressed another kiss to her forehead and stood up, flicking the light switch and bathing their apartment in Christmas lights. She looked around in a look he could only describe as awe. She set the necklace down on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around his neck before kissing him deeply.

He was the luckiest man in the whole bloody world.


	7. I Finally Got Something Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marital bliss is interrupted by undercover missions.

**BOBBI**

Bobbi unlocked the door of her “apartment” (It was much more like a tenement than an apartment) and slammed it shut, sighing. She still didn’t get why  _ she _ was the one who had to do recon in Russia on the Red Room. Her Russian was spotty at best, and going undercover as a ballet dancer? Really? Clint had been there before, Natasha was  _ actually _ Russian (And a ballet dancer), and the kids who had just graduated from the Academy needed to be broken in.

Sighing once again, and doing her best to avoid her roommate’s bras littering the ground, she made her way over to her S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue laptop and logged onto Skype. She was beyond pleased to notice that Lance was on, too, although she was sure he was probably on base right then. She decided to test her luck and called him, and he picked up almost immediately.

“Hey,” she called.

“Hey. How’s undercover?”

“It’s… undercover. I’m still really pissed that the Black Widow who’s actually from here couldn’t do this, but hey. Why would S.H.I.E.L.D. make it easy on us?” Lance laughed, and it quickly turned into a yawn. “What time is it over there?” She couldn't exactly tell him where she was and what the time difference was, but she was pretty sure it was only two hours.

“It's about 1700. Sorry, 5 in the afternoon.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. uses that timing system, which I’ve told you way too many times. So why are you so exhausted?”

“i stayed up all night working on this stupid thing for the next op. I don’t know why I keep doing this, Bob.”

“Because you purposely failed out of college and you’re too scared to take your chances with no degree, Sergeant Hunter.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Mrs. Sergeant Hunter.” Bobbi sighed literally the second he said it and he let out a chuckle at her reaction. “I’m glad you like your new name so much, considering the hell you put me through to wind up with it.”

“Of course I like my new name. I’m a married woman now.” He laughed again, his eyes transfixed on hers.

“I love you so goddamn much.”

“I love you, too,” Bobbi sighed, “Are we still meeting up in Anchorage?”

“Yup, because S.H.I.E.L.D. hates us. Our rendez-vous is scheduled for next week.”

“I can’t wait to see your face again, to kiss those lips. It’ll make the last few weeks in hell go by faster.”

“That bad?”

“It’s hell on earth. My roommate? She’s a stripper. Who owns a snake.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“The snake is named what basically amounts to the Russian version of Wayne, Lance. I don’t think this mission could literally get any worse. I’m never coming back here.”

“Tell that to Fury.”

“Shut up. I gotta go before the stripper gets back, since my undercover identity is Russian and doesn’t have an British husband. And make sure Wayne didn’t get into any of my stuff.”

“Alright. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

She ended the call with a sigh. She  _ so _ wished that Lance could simply come on all of her missions with her and she wouldn’t have to make him fly to some insane place where she wasn’t even stationed just to see her.

But, maybe one day, she wouldn’t have to.


	8. I Will Never Be Complete Until I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the significance of Franny's Saloon?

**LANCE**

He’d thought this over in his head for weeks, months, even. Ever since Christmas, he’d been thinking. He’d been thinking about coming home from a mission without her there. He’d been thinking about her going to sleep alone after a rough mission. Kissing was one thing, but for Bobbi, a hug was ten thousand times more intimate, so she would only accept them from certain people, and would give them to even less. And after a rough mission, something she seemed to have in abundance during those days, that was something he had come to learn that she needed. Desperately. And they loved each other. There may have been a few kinks in their relationship that they would want to work on, but he was confident in their love for each other. He was hopeful that she’d say yes.

After all, it was only forever, right?

He’d come up with a pretty good, plan, too. They were going to the US for her parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, so he figured that he’d ask her there. She was excited to go back to the States, specifically Georgia, where her parents had met when they’d both attended Mercer University in Macon. She especially enjoyed teasing him about the fact that there was this magical thing that Americans liked to call the sun in Georgia in April. He’d taken her little jabs in stride, because _nothing_ could bring him down about this trip.

He was incredibly pleased that he managed to not only get the ring through customs, but also get it through without her seeing it. He considered that a rather impressive victory.

Bobbi had never been to Georgia, so she was just as eager to explore as Lance was. They went to a lot of places, but none felt quite right, not even the Planetarium, underneath all the stars.

What did feel right, however, was Franny’s Saloon, where her parents had dragged them for the evening. It was a karaoke bar that Ben and Bobbi had immediately fallen in love with and they sang an off-key but enthusiastic rendition of “Don’t You Want Me,” something their mother had told Lance they’d been doing for years and promised to show him a video from Ben’s fifth grade talent show, where he had gotten Bobbi to come and perform the song with him in front of most of the elementary school. Bobbi had been in high school at the time, due to the Morse siblings’ six year age difference, but she’d still come to rock out with her little brother.

It was right after the two had performed and Bobbi had sat down next to him in the booth with the biggest grin on her face that he’d seen in awhile. The horrendous attempt at air conditioning in the place had resulted in her simply in jeans and a turquoise tank top and a bit of sweat in her golden mane of hair, but he couldn’t ever remember her being so beautiful.

And that was when he knew.

He didn’t even bother with getting down on one knee. All he did was pull the box out of his coat pocket and rest it on the table.

“I want to share every single one of my lives with you,” he said, catching her attention. Her eyes fell on the box in a strange mixture of awe and fear. “Marry me.”

* * *

  **BOBBI**

She could barely believe those words had come out of Lance Hunter’s mouth. She was stunned and a little terrified, her eyes still glued to the velvet box. What was she supposed to say?

“Lance, I…” she managed to breathe out before she could form any more coherent thoughts. His face fell. What did he think was happening? Did he think she was going to turn him down? “I could run. I could walk out that door and never talk to you again. But I don’t know why I ever would.” His face glanced up at her in shock. “I want to marry you.”

He took the ring out of its box and slid it onto her finger. It wasn’t too flashy but not too subtle, either; clearly picked so it could be worn on missions without calling all the bad guys in a 200 mile radius to her location. He smashed his lips to hers and she all but crawled into his lap, twining her fingers through his hair. She knew her parents were probably scandalized and her brother was taking a picture, but she didn’t care. She’d just gotten _engaged_ , for God’s sake! She didn’t have a care in the world at the moment.

On their way out that night, Bobbi made everyone hold the car for her so she could buy something that caught her eye at the cashier. She showed it to Lance in the car and he laughed at her, bringing her close and kissing her shoulder, because she was a sentimental doof, but it was okay, because he was, too.

Her new keychain, advertising ‘Franny’s Saloon,’ would now serve as a constant reminder to this night.

* * *

 She gave Ben a hug as the final chords of “Don’t You Want Me” faded out. The entire bar clapped for them, and she was happier than she’d felt in a long time, whether it was the memories the song unlocked of her family around or just being away from wet and rainy London, she wasn’t sure.

She sat down next to Lance in the booth, grinning madly. She knew that her hair and face were coated in sweat due to the air conditioning-- well, lack thereof-- in the building, but he seemed transfixed on her.

Lance started fumbling around in his coat pocket but, before she could ask what he was doing, he placed a small velvet box on the table, and Bobbi was sure she knew what was inside it.

“I want to share every single one of my lives with you,” he said, catching her attention. Her eyes fell on the box with a strange mixture of awe and fear illuminated in them. “Marry me.”


	9. I Mean, I'm Happy/Trace of Gray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance most definitely does not have a problem with S.H.I.E.L.D. (Except he does)/Bobbi's act of stupidity has interesting results.

**LANCE**

“Shut up. I gotta go before the stripper gets back. And make sure Wayne didn’t get into any of my stuff.”

“Alright. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Bobbi ended the call and Lance ran a hand through his hair. When Bobbi had revealed that she was a spy and worked for S.H.I.E.L.D by kidnapping him, he’d been shocked. He knew what he was getting into when they got married; hell, the second-- admittedly a rather impulsive second, but a second nonetheless-- he decided to give her his number, he knew what to expect. S.H.I.E.L.D. existed outside the government, so they weren’t exactly state secrets that she was tasked with keeping.

They were probably, in all actuality, worse.

And, if life was perfect, she would be able to tell him what she was doing, other than “undercover” or the ever-descriptive “mission.” He wouldn’t have to invent stories in his mind as to what had happened out there when Mack or Izzy would call him to come get her from the S.H.I.E.L.D. flats or literally guide her into their flat after missions. But it wasn’t a problem. It was just a challenge.

It had always existed, of course. It was something he was sure many non-S.H.I.E.L.D. significant others had to deal with. Mack had never had a serious thing with anyone in all the years that Lance had known him. Izzy and Victoria had a (technically illegal) romantic relationship, but they were both S.H.I.E.L.D. and only a clearance level apart, which meant the majority of things that Victoria knew, Izzy did, too. He’d met Laura Barton once, and he supposed she probably shared the problem, but then he remembered that she was married to Clint Barton, whom he was sure would spill every classified thing he could think of if he was drunk enough.

But there were times when Bobbi would come home bruised and beaten and she would barely get out of bed, and she couldn’t tell him why. The most he would ever get would be “S.H.I.E.L.D. casualties” or “civilian casualties” or “If only I…” And he absolutely detested that. S.H.I.E.L.D. offered mental health services, they were all but required to, but Bobbi was too proud to use them, no matter how much coaxing Natasha would use on her, and he couldn’t exactly march her in there, considering he wasn’t even allowed on base without explicit permission from Director Fury himself, and Director Fury was stationed in New York City at the time, making it hard to get in contact. He just wanted to help her; he wanted to support her. Wasn’t that what marriage was? A mutual love and respect for each other, a promise to be there through the worst and best times in someone’s life?

But it was fine. He loved her. It was completely fine. It wasn’t a problem. It was just a challenge.

* * *

  **BOBBI**

“What you did was stupid, Agent Morse,” Fury snapped at her as she stood at attention in his office. “You could’ve been seriously hurt. It’s a miracle that you can talk as well as you can after inhaling all that smoke.”

“I know, sir. But I didn’t-”

“You were trying to avoid another incident like Agent Romanoff’s hospital fire. I am fully aware of your intentions, Agent Morse, but that doesn’t mean I support them.”

“I understand, sir.” Fury nodded and sat down behind his desk, reaching for his tumbler of scotch. “Would you like me to leave, sir?”

“In just a moment.” He pulled out a slip of paper and filled in some of the blanks on it, before he signed his signature in a big flourish. Bobbi figured that it was going to list her suspension, but once she glanced over it, she realized what it was.

“Sir? May I ask why I’m being promoted to the next clearance level?”

“Because if people here were punished for every stupid thing they did, Agent Morse, almost every field agent would no longer be employed here. Your intentions were pure; that’s what matters.”

“I don’t know what- Thank you, sir.”

“We would hate to lose you, Agent Morse,” Fury promised, taking another sip of his scotch.

“And I would hate to leave, sir. Thank you.”

He nodded again as she exited his office, trying to contain her ginormous grin. No wonder Natasha and Clint had both advanced through the ranks so quickly, though Bobbi doubted they were rewarded for _every_ stupid deed with pure intentions, or else they would have a clearance level above one thousand by now.

* * *

  **LANCE**

“She’s just _sitting_ there, Natasha,” Lance sighed into the phone, running a hand through his hair. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Be there for her. It’s all you can do.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m on with you, so it’s probably not too late to try and talk to-”

“Hunter,” Natasha interrupted. While most S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel went by last names, Lance had always had the privilege of being on a first-name basis with Bobbi’s S.O, and that went both ways. Usually, since they’d all picked it up from Bobbi herself, calling him ‘Hunter’ was a good way to get him to stop rambling, stop joking, or simply stop talking in general.

Izzy had never once called him ‘Lance’ because of this, apparently not even when talking about him.

“What?”

“It’s all you can do. Involving Fury will just irritate her more; you know that because you know her. And you have to use your knowledge of her to help her.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t think I thank you for mental health tips enough.”

“Well, considering I broke out of a brainwashing a few years ago, I think I’m the person to go to.” Lance winced and was beyond thankful that Natasha couldn’t see it. While she was able to joke about it every now and then, Lance knew it still scarred her, and he was worried he’d wake up with an angry voicemail from Clint asking if he was the reason that Natasha had had a nightmare. It had happened once before, and he _really_ didn’t need that again. Especially if Laura joined in, because according to Bobbi, Laura yelling at you about messing with Natasha was even worse than Clint.

He was just about to walk back into the living area when his mobile rang and he cursed upon seeing the caller ID. He did _not_ have time for this right now.

“Sergeant Hunter.”

“We need you in.”

“When?”

“As soon as possible.”

Lance glanced over at Bobbi, who was still curled up in her ball on the couch. He couldn’t exactly tell his superior officer that his S.H.I.E.L.D. agent wife was curled up on their couch with what looked like a crippling-- for the moment-- case of PTSD. The most the SAS knew about Barbara Hunter was that she was his wife who traveled all over the world for her job. She was a completely different entity from the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent he had given illegal intel to back in 2005, in their eyes.

“I’m leaving now,” he finally said, grabbing his key ring from the kitchen. “ETA, about fifteen minutes.”

“See you then.”

He passed Bobbi and told her where he was going, and all he got was a vague nod. Only about 80% positive that she’d actually heard, much less comprehended, what he’d just said, he wrote it out for her as well. He planted a kiss to her temple before exiting the flat and making his way to his car, sighing once the door was shut. Had he really just done that?

“I’ll be home soon, Bob,” he promised as he pulled out into London traffic, “I swear I’ll be.”


	10. Grant Me Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi struggles with where she belongs.

**BOBBI**

Bobbi entered the ballroom nervously. When she had gone undercover before, someone had been by her side to make sure her cover didn’t slip, and she did the same for them. This time, however, her partners were Mack and Susanna, who were busy disabling a device. It was her job to keep the mark distracted while they did their job.

She caught the mark’s attention almost immediately. Her hair had been dyed red for the mission, and she had put on a rather tight black dress. She’d had Mack take a picture to show Lance, as he loved seeing her in formal wear, claiming it was a turn on.

Mack and Susanna’s voices were audible over the comms, discussing the best tactics for their job. She knew that they needed the mark’s fingerprint scan to get in. The question was, how was she going to get it?

“Guys,” she murmured into the comms, “How do I get the scan?”

“Warm up to him, offer to refill his drink. Use the handkerchief in your bag to wipe down the glass and we’ll get what we need,” Mack replied.

“Right. You make it sound so easy.”

Natasha’s voice flooded her brain: _Even in this day and age, no one expects the woman to be able to kick the man’s ass. Use your femininity to your advantage. Flaunt your boobs, have slits ten miles long on your legs. Anything to manipulate your mark._

Of course, Natasha made it sound pretty easy, too.

Throughout her conversation with the mark, right up until Mack gave her the all clear, doubts were filling her head. Should she have picked lower heels? Tall girls were considered not-overly-approachable. Why red hair, of all things? There was a reason Natasha went with either blonde, black, brown, or a very dark red when undercover. Was she showing off her breasts enough? Was he buying her small talk? Was she _making_ effective small talk?

_Why did I pick this career? I suck, I suck, I suck…_

When Susanna finally gave the all-clear, Bobbi excused herself to the restroom and had to stop and take a deep breath in the hallway. She was never going to be the only undercover operative on a mission ever again.

* * *

Bobbi had just gotten off the phone with Lance when her phone went off again, with her father’s number appearing on the screen. She answered the phone somewhat nervously, considering she’d talked to her mother just the day before.

“Hi, Dad,” she said into the phone.

“Hello, Barbara! Just wanted to make sure that you got in safe from your last mission. I was out when your mother called last night.”

“Oh, good; I was afraid something had happened to Mom or Ben or something.”

“Well, if you want news on your brother, then I’ll have you know that he’s failing Calculus.”

“He barely passes math each year; I’m not surprised. Tell him I say hi and I’ll talk to him as soon as I can.”

“I will. You also need to remind him that college is not his only option. He’s stressing out about that.”

“You and Mom almost murdered me for choosing to go to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy instead of Stanford.”

“Well, it was Stanford! If it was an Ivy League, you’d definitely be dead. But how is it going, with S.H.I.E.L.D? And your biology?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m climbing uphill,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair, which was still red from the mission. “I mean, the biology’s going fine, but on the most recent mission… there wasn’t a firefight or anything; I didn’t even have to pull out a weapon. Just… sometimes I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to get my degree online, and I already had it, and I was working in a lab somewhere.”

“You’ll be alright, sweetheart. You always are.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Call your brother when you get the chance, and tell Lance hi.”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Bobbi hung up the phone and took a deep breath. It was getting late, and she really needed some sleep.

* * *

 She sat in the back of the room, watching Lance at the press conference. He had been asked to speak on behalf of some military thing that she’d already forgotten the name of. She wasn’t paying a ton of attention, if she was being honest.

She’d seen Lance in action in Dubai, when she’d first introduced him to Mack. He was good. He was an amazing tactician; he could shoot like nobody’s business; he was pretty cool undercover. He’d even broken out his American accent for her, and it wasn’t too bad.

They’d started talking about a future. He wanted three kids, but she wasn’t sure quite yet if she wanted them or not. It didn’t exactly fit in with their lifestyle.

That made her think a lot. What if they did wind up having kids? She could be called in for a mission at any time, and Lance was often deployed or called in for weeks at a time to the base. How would that work if they were parents? Would one of them have to give everything up?

_I will not be a housewife. I do not need a man in my life._


	11. Talk To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi walks out. For a little while anyways.

**LANCE**

"All they do is ask me stupid questions!"

"Bobbi-"

"'How did you and Hunter meet?' 'Are you an expat?' 'Is it scary when he's away?'"

"You don’t have to-"

“I have to answer them all like the doting military wife they expect me to be-”

“They don’t-”

"I just don't want to go! I have homework to do anyways-"

"Bobbi, stop it!" His voice was a lot sharper and he’d expected it to be and she actually flinched. He cursed. Shouting seemed to be a trigger after this one, as did touching in general, so this time his story was she got kidnapped and didn’t have time to put her guard up before any chance of it going up in time was destroyed. “What’s going on? Really? Tell me about why I can’t hold you at night or why you’re actually _flinching_ when I simply say things in a certain tone.”

"I'm not allowed to," she whispered.

"Bobbi," he sighed, reaching for her hands before remembering, "You can always tell me."

“No, I really can’t.” She stood up and headed towards the door.

"Don't we get to be happy, Bobbi?!" he shouted after her. “If I’m supporting you, even through this huge communication gap we’re forced to have, then can’t you support me? And why do I have to lose because you can’t win?”

She took a staggering step back from him and turned her face away from his. He sighed.

"I believe in you, Bobs. I believe in you _so, so_ much. And I do believe you’re stronger than all these bad missions and your PTSD.” She looked like she wanted to protest his diagnosis, but never opened her mouth. “But I made a promise the day we said our vows. I made a promise to always be there for you. And I thought you’d made the same one.”

He walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her. She shook him off, though she didn’t flinch like she had before. That give him some hope, but not much.

"The fact is, Bobbi, if I hadn't believed in you, I wouldn't have loved you at all."

He watched her hand go up to to her cheek and brush away what could only be a tear. Even when she came back from missions, she barely ever cried. He had never made her cry before. Something twisted in his gut at this revelation and he wrapped his arms tightly around her a second time, and, when she didn’t react violently, he found the courage to whisper, "Now will you go put your dress on? Please?"

She shook off his arms again and grabbed a t-shirt and shorts from her dresser before exiting the apartment.

"Bobbi!" he called after her, but the door had already slammed shut and he buried his face in his palms.


	12. What Have I Got To Lose?

**BOBBI**

"Everyone in these yearbooks of yours looks so bloody irritating I'm surprised you put up with them for four years," Lance observed as he flipped through her yearbook from junior year. Bobbi shrugged.

"You don't have to come to the reunion, you know," she replied.

"I want to. I want to see everyone's faces when you say that you live in England and have me by your side.”

“I’m only going to see my old-best-friend, Caroline,” Bobbi replied, pointing out a girl named  _ Caroline Franklin-Carlisle _ in her senior yearbook. “She had a little, um, situation during second semester of senior year. She and her boyfriend, Marcus, got married over spring break.”

“Oh,  _ that _ kind of situation,” he laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and holding her close to him.

“Yep. They bought a little house on a quaint street. They put a crucifix on the door.”

“Wait. You’re telling me that your obviously Catholic best friend, who had premarital sex with a boy, put a crucifix on their door.”

“Yeah, I questioned the logic, too,” Bobbi laughed. “It’s just the facts of life up there. I’d said to myself, ‘I don’t want this.’ The two of them-- well,  _ three _ , I guess-- actually made me choose S.H.I.E.L.D. I’d already committed to Stanford for gymnastics, but someone had come up to me at a meet and said I should consider going to the Academy. I was intrigued, took the entrance physical and medical tests, was accepted. Talked to my parents and then chose it instead.”

“Well I’m glad you did,” Lance whispered, kissing her forehead, “Or else we wouldn’t have met.”

“I know. It’s why I want to see Caroline. Thank her in person.”

* * *

"My turn?"

"Yes," Bobbi told her. She and Lance had joined Clint, Nat, Izzy, and Victoria for a game of drunk truth or dare at Victoria and Izzy's apartment. Mack had been there earlier, but was called back to base to help with the nightly quinjet inspection.

"Bobbi, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"Nope, you've done six dares in a row, so give her a truth, Natasha."

"My own boyfriend is turning against me," Bobbi sighed.

"Alright. Bobbi, what is the stupidest way a guy's broken up with you?"

"My first boyfriend, the one I had at the Academy, blew me off with a letter."

"I'm sorry,  _ what _ ?" Clint asked.

"So I started at S.H.I.E.L.D. right after high school. I was kind of chubby in high school, even with gymnastics, but all the Academy training helped me lose twenty pounds and so a lot of people seemed interested in me. The guy I went out with was in my MMA class. You don't learn the regulations about  _ those _ kind of relationships until second year, so at that time I was like 'Yeah, I'll go to dinner with you!' And once we learned those regulations he blew me off with the letter, and of course that was the second I started to think that it might work out. But I found someone ten times better."

"Yuck," Victoria said, but Lance still leaned and kissed her anyways.

* * *

“Lance, calm down.”

“It’s your  _ parents _ , Bob. Yes, I understand that it’s your brother’s birthday, but why do I have to come?”

“Because I’ve met your parents, and now it’s your turn to meet mine.”

“Yes, that is exactly what the hell I want. Are you sure you want them meeting me? I’m the unruly British boy that stole their daughter.”

“You did not  _ steal me _ , Lance, and my parents and my brother, for that matter, do not think that way. I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent; they know I can take care of myself. Also, we're literally driving to their house right now, so this freak out of yours is a little late."

"But they're going to expect this perfectly poised man and I can barely make a bed!"

"I chose you for a reason. You could never get a haircut again and I wouldn't care as long as you love me. I want  _ you. _ Meeting my parents doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. We could fizzle out or go the distance, and you don't need to promise me anything. You know why?" He shook his head at her. "Because I know this is right."

"When'd you become such a motivational speaker?"

"I'm best friends with Clint Barton. He goes back and forth between being motivational and needing motivation."

"Anything else I should know before I meet them?”

"No. When we get there, though, take a look at that town and how far I've come, because I will never look back about my choice to go to the Academy over Stanford.”

“I know you won’t,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Move in with me,” she blurted out after he’d pulled away. “I can move off-base and just continue to report to the Hub; people do it all the time, I swear.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to answer right away,” she replied, “But think about it, okay?”

“Of course.”


	13. Everyone Bleeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance can't keep doing this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter! Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, bookmarked, subscribed, and/or left kudos. They all make me so happy; you have no idea. I also apologize for most of the short chapters in the middle of this story.

**LANCE**

 

He woke up to an empty bed, though  _ that _ wasn’t a new occurrence. Bobbi had been on some mission for a few weeks now, and he was going to visit her in Barcelona, though whether or not her mission was  _ actually _ in Barcelona, he didn’t know.

He was starting to get sick of this. He would try to be happy about something, she would close herself off, he would get angry, she would get defensive, one of them would slam a door, and then two hours later there would be incredibly rough anger sex, and eventually the make-up sex would come into play. Though they could go weeks without talking to each other. One of the few reasons he was even  _ going _ to Barcelona was because they’d arranged it before the mission, before yet another fight where things went south.

Sometimes, it felt like a dream. Others, it felt like a nightmare.

He finally stood up and began to get dressed. It felt like he was putting on armor, and he knew that putting on armor to go see your wife of barely two years was probably a bad thing. He wanted children with her, and while she had warmed up to the idea three years ago, she was slowly becoming less hesitant about it. What kind of environment would they be bringing a child into? An incredibly toxic one, that much he knew. If they became serious about having kids, they would  _ have _ to stop pretending that everything was alright between them.

They were both hanging onto this by the tips of their fingers, and they were sliding fast. What could he do? He didn’t know. He needed to be in love with someone, to feel needed. He couldn’t get deployed without having something,  _ someone _ , really, to return to. At least, he didn’t feel like he could. He hadn’t really ever done it before. Would he be able to work as hard as he did without her by his side? Without  _ anyone _ by his side?

He made his way down to Southampton slowly, and not just because he hit London rush hour traffic magnificently. Was he dreading this? Seeing his wife, the woman he’d promised forever to? He couldn’t  _ really _ be dreading it this much. Right?

Izzy met him at the S.H.I.E.L.D. owned apartments and drove the car that he couldn’t see out of so he wouldn’t know where they were. He thought the blindfold was a bit much, especially when they were walking around and not just in the car, but protocol was protocol; he knew that and had to deal with it. He was going to see his wife. Whom he loved very, very much. He was  _ not _ going to get mad at her, he was not going to complain about  _ protocol _ , not when he was likely to find her battling PTSD yet again while still trying to complete whatever the hell she was supposed to be doing in Barcelona or Los Angeles or New Delhi or wherever the  _ hell _ it was she was actually doing her mission in.

He spent most of the flight on his phone, arguing with one of his officers. Apparently, there was a banquet the next night that he either had forgotten about or nobody had informed him of. Great. Bobbi was gonna be pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last thing: As I hope you've noticed, this work is listed as being part of a series. I plan to post the first chapter of the sequel before posting the final chapter of this. It's based off of Maroon 5's "One More Night" and each chapter covers Bobbi and Lance's relationship starting a year after this ends, leading up to the very beginning of Season 2. I hope you'll check it out!


	14. I Have Been Waiting For You/I Loved You So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Bobbi and Lance's first date. In the future, Lance writes a letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story! You can find the sequel, One More Night, by clicking on the series name, if you're interested.

**BOBBI**

Bobbi woke up to an empty bed, but could hear the shower running. She wondered if it would be an awkward first meeting, or if they would wind up making this a regular thing.

She stood up slowly, running a hand through her blonde hair. It was almost eight and she would be expected at base in an hour, and he would probably be expected at work soon, too, except he had a two hour drive back to London, probably even longer with all this traffic. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea for him to spend the night. Especially since Bobbi had officially become one of those girls who had sex on the first date. Izzy and Victoria would laugh at her about it for ages, if Natasha didn’t beat them to it. Though she wasn’t sure how Natasha would react. They were on friendly terms, but Bobbi definitely felt closer to Clint then her S.O. Not that she would want to dump this on new-father-Clint, who she was pretty sure was still in the process of turning Samantha Fisher into Laura Barton.

Once she entered the tiny kitchen in the back of her apartment, she got to work on breakfast. She had no idea what Lance would want, if he even  _ would _ want anything. The fact that he was taking a shower without asking made her hopeful he’d want to stick around, but at the same time, he was taking a shower  _ without asking _ . The only boyfriend she’d ever spent the night with was her one from the Academy, and their first time had been planned and intimate. They had been dating for almost two months at that point, and more than once they’d crashed in each other’s dorms after a study session. But at the Academy, your shower was  _ outside _ your dorm, and so was food, unless you kept a microwave or something in there. She’d never done  _ anything _ like this before. Lance was only the second guy she’d ever been with, after all. She had  _ no  _ clue what to expect.

He came out, completely dressed and looking mildly uncomfortable. She was still in her tank top and pajama pants, considering she hadn’t even  _ begun _ the search for her clothes. She distinctly remembered her bra being somewhere  _ other _ than the immediate area near her bed, but she would look for it after work.

“Do you want some eggs?” she asked after a few moments, gesturing to the frying pan in front of her with the spatula she was suddenly holding much tighter than needed, “Or something to drink? I think I have some tea-”

“I don’t drink tea, actually,” Lance laughed, “Though I’m sure the accent threw you off. Do you have coffee?”

“Yeah, I should. These past few mornings I’ve just been going to the Starbucks down the street,” she laughed.

“Ah, though I don’t blame you. Any idea where it would be?”

“Izzy’s is kept in the cabinet by the sink, but she could’ve moved it from where S.H.I.E.L.D. had put it. I’d check there first.” He went over and, sure enough, there sat a bag of coffee grounds, simply waiting to be brewed in the coffee maker she wasn’t even sure how to work yet. “I have no idea how that works, by the way.”

“It’s alright. I’ve got the same one back at my flat.”

“You’ll have to show me how to work it, then,” she told him.

“I’m sure it works very similar to every other coffee maker you’ve ever used.”

“True, but I’m not known for my skills with appliances. So, how do you want your eggs?”

“Scrambled will be just fine,” he said after a quick glance into the pan.

“Are you sure?”

“Bobbi, relax,” he laughed.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, “Just- what  _ are _ we? Was this a one-night stand? Are we dating? Are we fuck buddies or whatever that’s called?” He sighed.

“I don’t know. Whatever you want us to be.”

“You get a say, too,” she told him, staring right into his deep brown eyes. He nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair that had escaped her mess of a bun behind her ear.

“I wouldn’t mind being your boyfriend.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do.”

She leaned in and kissed him deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck. He responded eagerly, and she internally sighed in bliss.

* * *

**LANCE**

Staring at all of his clothing spread out in front of him, he sighed. He was _seriously_ going to do this. The closest they’d gotten to this step was when Bobbi threw her ring in his face, but the second she’d gotten back from her mission they’d had their fantastic make-up sex and it had been back on her finger within the hour.

“Hunter? Bobbi?” he heard Izzy shout shortly after he heard the front door slam, “Anybody home?”

Lance exited the bedroom and there Izzy stood in her traditional S.H.I.E.L.D. catsuit, her only visible wound a cut on her forehead.

“You have to stop coming here when you need to be patched up in the middle of missions, and pass that along to Vic, Mack, and the Deltas, too.”

“Well, I’m sorry I finished up and was in the area. I can do it myself, if you’d rather. And don’t call her Vic.”

“That reminds me,” Lance called over his shoulder as he entered the bathroom, trying to find Bobbi’s first aid kit, “Why do  _ you _ get to call her ‘Vic’ but the rest of us get snapped at and a stink eye?”

“That’s classified,” she told him, entering the bedroom. “You leaving?”

“Uh, yeah,” he finally said once he’d followed her in and saw what she was looking at, the huge kit in his hand. Since the Deltas, as Bobbi had taken to affectionately calling Clint and Natasha, though she wasn’t allowed to tell him why, loved to get banged up, Bobbi had filled their first aid kit with basically anything the two could possibly need. Izzy was reckless, sure, but the Deltas had her beat by a long shot. “I could use some help; Bobbi normally does it, if we’re speaking, but she’ll be on base until late, plus the drive, and I have to leave tonight.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Izzy helped him pack his standard duffel bag and then left the apartment, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek that he half-heartedly returned. As soon as the door clanged shut behind her, he gathered the rest of his stuff and then sat down at the desk and grabbed the first piece of paper he could reach. It had the heading of ‘Lance and Bobbi Hunter,’ which he knew was going to be salt in the wound, but what else was he supposed to do? This whole thing was going to be hard, what could a little bit of salt add to it?

_ Isabelle helped me pack. She didn’t know what she was doing, I swear. But take it how you will. _

_ We can’t keep doing this, Bob. We’re not going to make any more compromises that only one of us ever really likes and you’ve made very clear your opinions on therapists. So I’m doing what has to be done. _

_ I was never going to be your knight, Bob, to rescue you from that little town you grew up in, or the demons that followed you from it, or the PTSD that you come home with every two weeks-- because yes, Bob, it  _ is _ PTSD and you have to stop lying to yourself about that. I was never your fairytale ending, and we both know that neither of us are in a fit career for whatever the hell it is we’re after. I’m  _ sorry _ , Bob, and I know you won’t believe that. All I can ever do for you is love you, but that’s not enough any more. _

_ And I can let you go. _

_ \--Lance _

He took his key ring out of his pocket and set it on the table slowly. Then he pulled his wedding ring off even slower and set it down as well. It was very odd to have it off his finger, but it also felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he didn’t know how he felt about that feeling.

Making his way to the door slowly, he took one last glance around the apartment he’d spent basically five years of his life in. He doubted he’d be allowed back in, but he didn’t care. This was Bobbi’s place now.

He made sure to turn the lock on the door before he closed it, his suitcase and duffel bag in hand. He took a deep breath and muttered, “What now?”

* * *

**BOBBI**

Bobbi walked Lance to the door, hand in hand. They’d made plans to meet up that night, but this time she’d go to London, a fair trade. She simply prayed that she could get off base at five. Otherwise, she’d be in huge trouble with him.

He leaned in to kiss her but she pushed him away.

“Save it for tonight. Leave with that one perfect kiss in our memory,” she said, referring to the one in the kitchen before breakfast. “I’ll watch you leave, if you want.”

“I guess that will suffice,” he murmured, planting a kiss to her cheek. She swatted him away good-naturedly. “See you tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting. I’ve been waiting for you for twenty-something years, after all.”

He grinned at her and she watched him walk down the hallway and out the front door, him waving at her at one last time before ducking out the door.

“I have been waiting for you,” she sighed, resting her forehead against the doorframe. She could not remember  _ ever _ feeling like this about a guy, not in high school, nor at the Academy. This was different. This could go the distance.

She hoped desperately that it would.

* * *

**LANCE**

The last time he’d left an apartment she lived in with this many emotions jumbled up inside him, he’d been no older than twenty-three. He’d spent the night after their first time, and they had a coffee date that night. It was the start of the first hill on a five year roller coaster that took them all over the world.

And he was finally getting off.

He took one last glance at the door that they’d pushed each other up against, that they’d slammed in anger and frustration. It opened into their flat, the only one they’d ever shared. This door was as big a part of their relationship as the ring sitting on the table.

As he stared at that large, wooden piece of the past, he took a deep breath before he picked up his stuff and exited the building, stepping out into the London rain. Of course it was raining. Why wouldn’t it be?

He made his way down the street, heading in the direction of his friend Roger’s flat. He had to leave before he saw her, because he couldn’t deal with how she would look at him in that moment. He already hated himself enough; he didn’t need her hate on top of that. He doubted they’d ever see each other again.

_ Goodbye, Bobbi. Goodbye. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the story in chronological order, if anyone wants it:
> 
> Chapter 2  
> Bobbi’s Chapter 14 POVs  
> Chapter 12  
> Lance’s Chapter 4 POV  
> Chapter 10  
> Chapter 6  
> Bobbi’s Chapter 9 POV  
> Lance’s Chapter 8 POV  
> Bobbi’s second Chapter 8 POV  
> Bobbi’s first Chapter 8 POV  
> Chapter 7  
> Lance’s Chapter 9 POVs  
> Chapter 5  
> Chapter 11  
> Bobbi’s Chapter 4 POV  
> Chapter 13  
> Chapter 3  
> Lance’s Chapter 14 POVs  
> Chapter 1


End file.
